


Finally

by tegan_is_done



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Loneliness, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Sleeping Together, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 04:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14276556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tegan_is_done/pseuds/tegan_is_done
Summary: that one time in season 13 when Cas implied he and Dean had spent the night? ;)





	Finally

A small noise aroused Dean from his light sleep, a soft groan of exasperation escaping his dry lips. Someone, or something, was wandering around in the bunker. 

Dean dropped his head back onto the pillow for a second, then struggled up to a seated position and slipped out of bed.

Silently padding barefoot across the halls of the bunker, Dean investigated the source of the noise. Entering the kitchen, he found Cas sitting at the counter with a blanket wrapped around his broad shoulders and a mug of tea clutched in his hands.

“Cas?” Dean said, rubbing his face tiredly as he entered the kitchen. It was rather cold in here during the night, and Dean shivered a little in his thin tee and flannel pajama pants.

Cas looked up at the sound of Dean’s familiar voice, his face even more careworn and tired looking than usual.

“Oh...hello, Dean,” Cas replied, his tone despondent. 

“You good?” Dean queried, stepping over to Cas and sitting down on the other side of the counter. With some surprise, Dean noticed that instead of Cas's normal suit and trench coat, he was wearing a plain black tee and blue plaid boxers. Dean's eyes widened slightly at the sight of Cas’s smooth legs stretched out under the table, and he looked away quickly.

“I suppose,” Cas sighed, not noticing Dean’s flinching reaction.

“Where'd you get those clothes?” Dean asked, covering up his momentary agitation with a slight frown. Cas's cheeks turned pink.

“Oh, uh, they're yours,” Cas responded, dropping his gaze.

“I...see,” Dean said slowly. He could feel his ears burning; there was something incredibly hot about Cas wearing his clothes.

“I'm sorry, Dean, I should've asked,” Cas mumbled, rubbing his face. 

“No, it's alright,” Dean said lightly, waving it off. “So...what's wrong?”

Cas shrugged, staring down into his mug of tea for a long time before answering. 

“I suppose...it's the nightmares,” Cas whispered. “Angels usually don't sleep, but I found that I do. But lately...I dream too much.”

Dean nodded slowly, a slight frown creasing his features. 

“What are they about?” Dean asked. “I mean, if you're okay with it,” he added, holding a hand out to show that he meant no harm.

Cas sighed softly, hesitating for a long while before replying, his gravelly voice even rougher than usual. 

“It's always the same thing. I...I'm in heaven, but it's different. Empty. And...it's my fault. Heaven is barren because of me...I try to find someone, anyone, but there is no one. Then it changes, and I'm back on earth, but it's cold. There are people, but there is no longer any warmth...so I go looking for you. My only thought is that the Winchesters will fix this. But…” 

At this point, Cas hesitated. His fingers were starting to tremble, and without thinking, Dean gently took his hands and held them tightly. Cas let out a shaky breath and continued. 

“But when I find you, you're just as cold as the rest of the world. I discover that it was because...Sam was gone. The loss of your brother had ruined the world and you...you just didn't care anymore. You...you couldn't even see me anymore. You had become so numb to everything around you that you could no longer see me…” 

Cas pulled his hands away from Dean's, drawing his blanket closer around himself and looking absolutely miserable.

“And then...you decided that without Sam, there was no reason to continue. I turn my back for a moment, and when I look around again...you're lying on the ground, freezing cold in a pool of your own blood. I try to save you, but I can't. I can't do anything but stand there and look on...and then you vanish, and I'm left completely and utterly alone.”

As Cas finished, Dean felt sick to his stomach. He would never admit that every time Sam left, that was exactly the way he felt.

“I'm so sorry, Cas,” Dean whispered, feeling utterly useless as he saw how broken Cas was over this dream.

“I don't want to lose you, Dean,” Cas murmured, finally looking up into Dean's eyes.

“You won't,” Dean said firmly, shaking his head. “I promise you won't.” 

Cas looked down again, his blue eyes duller than usual. Shaking his head slightly as if he didn't believe Dean's firm words, he dropped his hands into his lap.

Dean sighed inwardly, then stood up, moving around to Cas's side of the table.

“Come on,” he said, laying a gentle hand on Cas's shoulder. “Bed. You need rest.”

Cas nodded slightly and stood up, wincing slightly as his bare feet touched the cold tile floor. Dean kept an arm wrapped around Cas's shoulders, though he didn't quite know why.

Cas followed Dean quietly as Dean pulled him back to bed, but as they reached Dean's room, Cas frowned.

“Dean, this is your room,” Cas said, in a tone that implied that it should be painfully obvious.

“I know,” Dean said, pushing his door open and tugging Cas inside. Dean crossed the room, and sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. Then he patted the bed next to him.

“Come on,” he said quietly, scooting over to make room. Cas tilted his head in puzzlement, but said nothing. 

Instead he clambered onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and pillowing his head in his chest with a soft sigh. Dean smiled softly and wrapped his arms around Cas, one arm going around his chest and the other around his shoulders, Dean's fingers tangling into Cas's dark hair.

Cas curled up into Dean's side, his anxiety ebbing away as he relaxed into the comforting warmth of Dean's strong arms. Dean’s steady heartbeat drummed quietly under Cas’s cheek, and Cas sighed softly in pure contentment. 

Dean carefully began to stroke Cas’s hair, marvelling quietly at how soft his hair was. Cas grumbled quietly in approval, his tense muscles relaxing fully. In a few more moments, Cas was fast asleep. 

Dean continued to gently stroke his hair, his features softening as he saw how peaceful Cas looked when he was asleep. Then his eyes grew sad, knowing that he and Cas were doomed to tiptoe around each other forever, nothing more than what they already were, forever trapped by the lives they led. 

Dean had promised that he would never willingly leave Cas, but what would happen when he didn’t have the choice? Cas was immortal, and Dean...well, being a hunter, Dean’s lifespan was painfully short. Someday, he knew, Cas would be alone.

It took a long time for Dean to fall asleep that night. 

 

The next morning, Castiel woke up at the break of dawn. Since the Men of Letters bunker was deep underground and without windows, there was no way to tell if it was actually dawn. He just knew. 

Something felt...different, however. Opening his bright blue eyes, Cas slowly let them adjust to the light before trying to pinpoint exactly what it was. He shifted slightly, and oh, oh. 

Dean’s right arm was draped over Cas’s waist, one of his legs wedged tightly in between Cas’s and his nose buried in Cas’s hair. Cas could feel the warmth of Dean’s breath against his sharp shoulder blades, and he involuntarily let out a soft moan of quiet longing.

Dean grumbled in a low voice, shifting so that his legs were no longer tangled with Cas’s. Cas pushed himself up onto his elbows, rolling over to face Dean.

Dean’s rough face was softer than Cas had ever seen it, and Cas couldn’t help but reach out and gently trace a slim finger down the side of Dean’s cheek. His gaze flicked down to Dean’s sharp lips, and Cas held his breath, worrying that Dean would wake up any second now. 

Cas’s gentle hand slowly moved down Dean’s face, the pad of his thumb tracing across those perfect lips. Without any forethought, no speculation on future consequences, Cas leaned forward and pressed his lips against Dean’s.

Dean’s lips were rough and dry, and they tasted of whiskey and spearmint. Cas had to restrain himself from kissing Dean longer than he should, but damn...he felt so right against Cas…

A low rumble deep in Dean’s throat made Cas break away from him, a millisecond too late.

“Wow, good morning,” Dean said softly, staring up at Cas. Cas felt himself start to panic, his breathing starting to go ragged.

“Ah--Dean, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean--”

He was cut off by Dean sitting up and slipping a hand under his jaw, pulling him closer and kissing him again. 

A small strangled noise escaped Cas’s throat, only to be drowned out by Dean’s mouth pressing somewhat roughly against Cas’s. 

Dean’s other arm snaked around Cas’s waist, while the hand cupping his jaw moved back to slide into the angel’s hair. 

“Ah, Dean--” Cas started, gasping softly against Dean’s rough lips scraping against his jaw.

“Shhh…” Dean replied, swallowing Cas’s protests as he captured his lips in another kiss. The kiss was rapidly escalating from tender and gentle to rough and hungry. Cas slipped his arms around Dean’s neck, forgetting his protests and getting caught up in the heat of the moment. 

Dean shifted onto his knees, then pushed Cas back onto the bed, shifting on top of him and continuing to kiss him deeper and deeper. 

Cas moaned softly as Dean’s tongue found its way in between his lips, tracing slowly along the angel’s teeth. Cas pressed his tongue back against Dean’s, trailing his soft hands down Dean’s back. 

Dean allowed himself a small groan as Cas gently bit Dean's bottom lip, rolling it gently between his teeth. 

“Damn, Cas,” Dean breathed, slipping a hand down to gently trail down the angel’s side. His fingers slowly slipped under Cas's shirt, and the electrifying contact on Cas's skin made Cas whine softly.

Dean smirked and broke away from Cas's lips to gently kiss down his neck. Cas's skin was overheated, but soft and tasting like a thousand different tastes at once. Campfire, rainfall, vanilla, cinnamon, pine, gold...Dean let his tongue press against Cas's skin in a dozen different places, making Cas moan and squirm in need. 

Dean actually had his hands on the waistband of Cas's boxers when the door opened behind them, and Sam's voice went:

“Dean, I fou--oh, my God.”

Dean jumped off of Cas, cheeks burning and breathing ragged from what he'd been about to do. 

Sam was standing in the doorway, a mix of emotions on his face. It was like he didn't know whether to be disgusted, jubilant, or unsurprised. 

“Wow, Dean. Wow.” 

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean hissed, trying to regain his damaged dignity.

Sam rolled his eyes, then cleared his throat. “Uh, anyway, I have a lead on a case. If you're not too busy.”

“No, no, of course,” Dean muttered. “Now get out, please.”

Sam scoffed silently and left. Dean turned back to Cas, who was blushing furiously on the bed.

“Sorry, Cas…” Dean said apologetically. “We'll, uh, continue this later?” He added hopefully. Cas smiled.

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean grinned back. “Awesome.”

**Author's Note:**

> Crappy one shots, am I right?
> 
> Or, what I do when I'm supposed to be writing Falling For You but I don't want to because I'm a pouty toddler


End file.
